Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Back in the Harassment Cross Hairs

I am back after a week of driving my parents about on their holiday which included all of us staying at my brother and sister-in-law's place in Kamloops for four days. As expected, it was a full Family Feral gangstalk and harassment event, and opened up boundless opportunities for the perps to play more mix-up games of my possessions and habits in new circumstances and combinations with greater exposure to other family members.

In the latter case, the bathroom sink at my brother's place did not have a stopper and so I was compelled to first not shave that day (a frequent perp gambit), then use the uninstalled in-sink stopper which I was able to extract with my finger nails in the bottom of the shave water on the first day, but amazingly not on the second day. Draining the sink and installing the in-sink lever actuated stopper was then my brother's job, and he got to hang around my shave water, drain it out to a separate bucket, and generally loiter/gangstalk that particular aspect of my life that is routinely sabotaged and harassed by the perps every fucking day, ever since they went overt in 2002.

That I stay over at my parent's place most Sunday nights and shave there isn't enough, nor is it that I keep shaving cream there as well. Other stunts on this travelling (I won't call it a holiday when one is harassed, or under the threat of it at all moments), included my mother "needing" to suddenly use the hotel suite bathroom while I was shaving, causing me to wait outside with my face half covered in foam, and there were some awful slow draining sinks to be had too. In the long past, Ms. C from the story had a bathroom sink she didn't get fixed for some months, causing me to make the odd stayover shave from a bowl filled from the bathtub and set in the sink. My enforced hospital incarceration of 2003 for no organic reason was also beset with shaving hassles, having to do it in the bath where hot enough water was availible. Suffice to say, shaving, and even the simplier application of steel utensils and knives to food, causes the perps no end of grief, as it appears to convey some changes in body energetics that they have not yet figured out, and by extension, cannot yet fuck me with. You have read this before; not my problem, so why am I being pursued and fucked over about this?

There won't be an answer to this for at least two years in my estimation, which has been upgraded from one more year of harassment, going by the substantial investment of aerials and dishes I saw on my travels, far more than would be from cell phone network growth. Some microwave like dishes were only 30' above the buildings, clearly not for locations that removed the likelihood of electromagnetic interference. Even the forested areas; wherever there was a highway corridor, and we were on it, there were "radio" towers visible from every location I was. This trip was likely planned for years, (my parents made it last year they reminded me more than once), and was also likely to be predicated on the fact that whatever brown color interaction that I had with my parent's vehicle, a light metallic brown, could be measured and ameliorated by the perps. At one location in a parking lot outside a grocery store, the perps had five light metallic brown vehicles lined up, side by side.

The seats and interior of their Ford Escape were also slightly darker browns, but that didn't stop my father doing his gangstalking patrol around me, the most invasive and annoying instance when there was a dark brown chocolate cake sitting on the table for over ten minutes that was for dessert, and yet everyone fucked off from the table but me. Said cake was still in its plastic case, a black base and a transparent cover. The highlight of this arranged family friction was when I was mind-fucked into complaining that my father's gangstalking behavior was exactly the same as that I experience in public, and how could that be a coincidence? Of course I was blown off in getting an answer, and then everyone came to the table and had the chocolate cake dessert. A First Feral Family stakeout over chocolate cake in its plastic cover, and the highlight moment was to fuck me into enragement over my father's constant and blatant gangstalking moves, he dressed in light brown clothing for the entire week.

So in other words, the whole trip was all about gangstalking me and gettting me into unusual juxtapositions with my habits and belongings, usually with one or more family gangstalker present. And there were hundreds of these perp arranged moments, along with the many thousands of other gangstalkers, their operatives acting as tourists mainly, replete in their color coordinated swarms and sequences, which includes skin color as part of the mix. It was simply unbelievable as to the extent of the vehicle color arrangements they made absolutely everywhere I was, or where the vehicle was parked. The ferries take some 400 vehicles, and the entire preceding sailing (unloading while I was waiting in line), and the sailing I was on, was totally arranged for vehicle color and type. There were clusters of navy blues, especially yesterday (09-18-2007), then various shades of greys still with the heavy emphasis on silver grey (my former vehicle color), then whites and blacks, reds in abundance, and the usual fill-ins of greens, oranges, metallic copper color and yellows. They also put more light brown vehicles around me in some locations, and of course could pull this off on the highway by side by side lane blocking to keep me contained for longer with these same vehicles around me. On the last highway drive, there were five left lane blockings by drivers in succession. This was where I wanted to pass, and the assholes just crept along, perhaps only 3 mph faster than the traffic in the adjacent right lane.

When at a wine store, and after at least 10 minutes of feigned farting around by my mother to finally select a bottle of red wine, some 15 red vehicles descended, or coursed around me on me at the first intersection, phenomenonally "busy" for a small town in mid-day near a residential area. I complained to my mother about this undue "coincidence" and she just blew me off, and only pretended to notice two of them. Another setup, timed to a subsecond level of scripting; vehicles, the moment of my complaint, my words, and my mother's bullshit response for when there was suddenly less red vehicles. I have never been so blatantly besieged by so many color coordinated vehicles at a single location. And of course "I" was only allowed to make the wine color association long after the fact. Ever the door mat for these extreme sickos and their fucking games.

I won't be able to convey all the fuckery that went on for the seven days away, as much of it will have been purged from recall, and also, my handwritten journalling was also fucked with, as some days were not even written up.

The opening jerkaround was when I took my same-as-always food to my parent's place to be then taken on this junket. My mother told me that she had packed them, so at the first stop I went to look for it in the cooler, and lo, if she hadn't bare-assed lied to me and didn't pack it. So this extra food stayed in my parent's fridge for the week in plastic containers and I am eating it up today. Another perp stunt, changing up the storage location of my leftover food, initiated by a fucking lie first thing on this Feral Family Fuckover. Nothing new in parental lies, just that it was so fucking blatant.

A short trip to the grocery store; and a full-on freak show for this time of night. Two shopping cart acts loaded to the gunnels with plastic bags, a sidewalk cyclist, a walk-at-me fucker in the parking lot, a three time gangstalker scrawny woman in the store, a negro in a red shirt, and a few other freaks, never mind at least ten more passing as "customers" that keep "showing up" where I am about to go, then follow me later.

And I got my mail, and one was a statement from my accountant's office, claiming I owe them $432 from an unpaid bill in 2003, even if I continued to do business with them in 2004, 2005, and 2006 and never had this item ever show up. This statement only lists a $300 debit in 2003, (the remainder in interest) and shows no other financial transactions where I was billed and paid all my statements within 30 days. Mysteriously, all my statement records from this firm are not in my filing cabinet, not the first time something has gone missing from there. Another mystery is how they determined my new mailing address as I did not use them this year, being on an limited "disability income", and not needing their services when I can file online for free, which I did.

Enough of a piss-off, this renewed financial and tax related fuckery, as I had largely been free of it with four tax "re-assessments" in four years, all over the same matter, and all that I won. Additionally, my accountant of the above firm jerked me around and cost me a penalty from the US tax people (IRS) when he was supposed to be an expert on US and Canadian taxes. Just when I thought that train of fuckery had ended the perps pull this one, scraping the bottom of the barrel it would seem, going back to 2003 (2002 tax year).

Anyhow, it may be a total "mistake", but the real action will start tomorrow when I find out why they had not billed me for over four years, and that no other account transactions appear since then, save the interest adding up. And for sure, they all know who I am, as the staff are doing their gangstalking whenever I visited their offices, and I suspect their office move and renovation in 2001 might have been their payoff when I first started doing business there. Just more jerking around.

Anyhow, it is late, I have been busy catching up on my web news sites, and recieving some kind of eye bothering emanations from this LCD panel, something I haven't had in a week, so it is a good time to end this, and hopefully detail more of my recent travelling-while-harassed stories tomorrow.

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